Wanderlust
by GivingJoy
Summary: The New World is not for the faint of heart. If things are going to change, it will take all of the knowledge and instinct of the few survivors left to bring order in these trying times. Better get movin'.
1. Los Angeles

A/N: Okay! So, this is my first fanfiction. Just typing those words makes me want to crawl under my covers and sleep for ten hours in a fit of depression. I've always wanted to write stories, but never got the drive or courage to do it until now. I don't know why I chose TWD, but an idea came to me and it stuck, so here's the product. I have no idea how to categorize this because I only have a rough outline in my head, but I hope the rating and themes are suitable and I didn't totally screw up.

I know it's a terrible time to publish this, with the show starting up again this past Sunday, but I think this past episode is perfect for my particular idea. Of course, after the characters meet, I probably won't follow the original plot at all, so it works out. (Hopefully.)

I'm mostly doing this for me, but I hope someone out there clicks on it and takes some joy out of it.

Disclaimer: I do no own The Walking Dead or the song 'Angeles'. I also don't own any of the popular media that might or might not be referenced in this story.

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><p><em>Oh Los Angeles we leave you now<em>

_At the setting of your skies_

_And as we leave the comfort of your ground_

_With your angels we will fly_

_Well you carried us in broken dreams_

_Like a mother does her sons_

_We were scattered 'cross your dirty streets_

_We were dying one by one_

_And you held us in your city lights_

_When our eyes had lost the stars_

_And we made our peace with lonely nights_

_And you healed our broken hearts_

_Well they say the Big One's gonna come_

_And you will fall into the sea_

_But we will know that then your work is done_

_And your angels will go free_

_Angeles by: Peter Bradley Adams_

* * *

><p><em>Once, before disaster struck, I read an article about the dirtiest cities in America. Los Angeles was third, right behind New Orleans and New York.<em>

_It got me thinking._

_Some of the worst plagues in history began in the streets of dirty cities. Does the Black Death ring any bells?_

_Yeah. Thought so._

_I wish I could say that I was surprised when the dead started rampaging through the streets. That I had faith humanity would learn from past mistakes. In the end, though, when my new coworker at the office started trying to take a bite out of me, I didn't hesitate to take a letter opener to his head._

_In hindsight, I can see why not being surprised is a plus._

* * *

><p>I was in the corner of the room, letter opener grasped in my shaking hands as I stared at Dylan's dead body. His <em>dead,<em> dead body. I had just killed it for the second time. My memory was a blur as I tried to piece together the past five minutes. When I realized I had just stabbed my coworker through the eye, my stomach heaved and I found myself on hands and knees, losing my curried chicken on the plush, beige carpet in my office. I was shocked at myself. I glanced up, then immediately went back to heaving as soon as I saw Dylan's face. The flesh that made up his cheeks was sliding off his skull and there was an enormous, gaping hole where one of his hazel eyes used to be. Blood dripped from his head and mixed with my vomit, the wet sinking into the thick carpet.

I shook as I stood, turning my face away from the sight. I gripped the edge of my desk with one hand and brought the trembling fingers of the other up to the blinds, pulling down so I could peer through the glass. What I saw made me drop back down to the floor and curl into myself in fear. They were everywhere. I couldn't hear anything from the tall building but I knew that mayhem ruled the streets and there were probably death cries ringing in the air from down below. For what seemed like an eternity, I sat in my own little world, trying to wake myself up from this nightmare.

Then, I felt a change come over me as I came to the realization that, no, I wasn't dreaming and, yes, this was happening and, yes _goddamnit, _I had to get off my ass and get the hell out of limbo before some goon came in here and ate my liver. I had a little sense left, so I grabbed my coat and my keys and exited my office, only to be confronted by the sight of Eve, the receptionist, being torn apart by my boss and two other mindless drones. My little squeal didn't faze them as they tore into her gut, blood spewing onto my shoes. I backed away slowly, only turning my back when I was in the hall out of eating range. The elevator was tempting, but I didn't want a nasty surprise to be waiting for me on the other side, so I took the stairs.

I needed some cardio anyway.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I could hear the pandemonium in the streets. Steeling myself, I opened the fire exit door and walked into the sunlight.

I immediately wanted back in my office.

If you didn't already know, Los Angeles is not known for being easily traversed. Traffic is killer, which is even truer now that every time you stop, there's a homeless guy outside your door trying to suck your eyeballs out.

The cars in the street were practically piled on top of each other. People were screaming and trying to get away from the havoc. They exited their metal death traps and were pulled to the ground by the cannibals roaming the streets. I heard a baby crying. I was almost surprised that I still had something in my stomach that I felt like throwing up.

And then, a miracle. Right on the side of the street, a motorcycle sat, gleaming in the sun. I guess video game rules apply during the apocalypse too.

_If it's shiny, it must be important._

But the real miracle was that the previous owner of said miraculous bike was laying in a pool of his own blood, shot feet away from his destination, keys in hand. I almost felt guilty as I stole my dead savior's keys and hopped onto the motorcycle that might have saved his life if he hadn't been shot.

Then my brain actually processed the information I was inputting and I realized this guy was not a victim of vicious biting. I looked into the distance and paused as I caught sight of the barrier keeping traffic from moving, the tank behind said barrier, and the soldiers in the streets gunning down civilians, alive or dead. It was a full blown extermination, the government trying to quarantine and destroy evidence of this fatal catastrophe.

Why was I not surprised?

Even as I watched, troops were being overwhelmed and eaten alive. I held back a yelp and tried to figure out what the difference was between a normal bike and one with an engine. I'd never ridden a motorcycle before in my life, but statistics have shown that when people are faced with cannibalistic death, they have a faster learning rate. My learning rate was going as fast as an Olympic runner on speed.

Just as the dead began to get interested in my general location, I figured out how to turn the bike on and peeled away from the curb. Dodging through cars and going faster than the speed limit permitted, I headed into a more rural area outside the city. I tried not to think about how, if I crashed, not only would I shred off all my skin, I would probably die. But I was a woman on a mission, and nothing but death itself would stop me from taking care of my Priority #1.

My daughter.

* * *

><p>I arrived at the house, knocking over the bike in my hurry to get to the door.<p>

"Therese?" I called anxiously, banging on the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement and turned to watch an old lady hobble toward me. Her eyes were glazed over in death and blood ran down her legs like a river. "Fuck it," I muttered, opening the door.

Stepping over the threshold, I closed the door and locked it, hands shaking. My gaze flitted over the interior of the house, taking in the happy yellow walls and the peonies in the vase on the side table in the hall. It was all so normal and unthreatening that I almost let out a sigh of relief.

Then I saw the blood dripping off the stairs.

I tensed, feeling myself let out a shaky breath. I grabbed the vase off the table and turned it over, letting the flowers and water dump onto the floor in a crumpled, soggy mess. I felt like it mirrored my appearance as I was sweating like a pig. My grip on the vase tightened, my knuckles white against china blue.

"Therese?" I whispered as I slowly ascended the stairs. Each step sent a creek echoing through the house, making my legs quiver, wanting to give way.

At the top of the staircase, with trepidation I took in the crimson trail leading to the playroom. My breathing was sporadic as I moved to the door. It was opened a crack, making the sunlight in the room hit the floor, the blood glittering like a liquid gem. I moved as if in a dream, putting my hand on the door and letting it creak open as slow as possible.

And then, I saw her.

Blood dripped from her leg, which was severely bit into and broken at the ankle. Her foot twisted grotesquely inward, almost completely turned in the opposite direction of her body. She scratched and clawed at the closet door on the left side of the room, trying to get to the precious cargo inside.

I tried staying as still as possible. I guess the dead must be able to smell fear, though, because she tilted her head around until I was in her sights. I couldn't hold in my gasp as I saw her face.

_This couldn't be Therese, could it?_

Then she lurched toward me, and I knew that even if she used to be my babysitter, she had probably tried to eat my baby, and that was not okay. I met her midway, slamming the vase into her skull and sending her crumpling to the floor, blue china tinkling as the vase broke from the stress.

I rushed to the closet, rattling the handle. "Alice!" I screamed, hysteric. "Alice, please, it's mommy, please open up! Please be okay…" I trailed off feeling tears run down my face. My adrenaline rush had pretty much turned tail and ran to Canada, leaving me a quivering mess. "Please," I gasped, "please…"

The knob twisted under my fingers. "Mommy?" a timid voice called, hesitant. I flung the door open to see my daughter, wrapped around another child, tears staining her cheeks. I dropped to the floor, bringing both of them into my embrace. "Thank God." I was blubbering now, my tears mixing with the ones on my daughters face, dripping off both of our chins. I backed up and got a good look at the other kid.

It was Charlie. He was a child whose foster parents sent him to Therese's because she knew ASL. His bright blue eyes were wide open, but dry. He had a stuffed dog in his hands, his grip so strong his hands were shaking.

"Don't worry," I said, voice trembling as I brought them back into my arms. "I'm here now." I felt Alice smile into my shoulder and Charlie's shaking subside.

Then, a moan ripped through the air, and my heart nearly stopped as I turned to see Therese crawling toward our huddle, blood streaming off her wounded head. She moaned again, and I saw her teeth, crimson dripping through her gums and over her lips. Alice let out a scream. Charlie hadn't heard Therese and sat snuggled up against me, a worried look on his features as he watched Alice.

My adrenaline kicked in again as Therese crawled toward us, scratching the wood floor. I rose, pushing the kids behind me and advancing on the handicapped dead person. I kicked out at her head, hard. The snapping sound it made sickened me, but not anymore than when she started to moan again, her chin making a ninety degree angle with her shoulders.

Thinking quickly, I took off my coat and wrapped my hand in the sleeve. Picking up the largest, sharpest piece of what was left of the vase, I knelt and brought it down through Therese's temple. I repeated the action until brain matter splattered across the floor, then stopped, gasping for breath. I stood slowly, trying to keep the mess hidden from the children. I failed, though, as my stomach turned and I fell to the side, dribbles of bile running out of my open mouth.

When I was done dry heaving, I turned to the horrified kids and clapped my hands, giving them a half-hearted grin. "That went better than expected." Alice rushed to me, leaving Charlie to sit on the floor, staring at his dead, mutilated caretaker. I picked Alice up, then went over and knelt, grabbing the hand that wasn't holding his dog and giving it a squeeze. Standing, I arranged myself between Charlie and Therese as I led him out of the room. I let go of his hand for a moment to close the door, but it was right back in my palm after I was done.

"First thing's first." I said quietly, the words loud in the dead silent house. I dragged both of them to Therese's room. I set Alice on the bed and started to go through the closet, grabbing a duffel off the slightly messy floor. Both of them watched silently as I emptied the bag and began putting clothes inside. I thanked whoever was up there for my insane luck that Therese was about my size. When that was finished, I ventured into the bathroom, grabbing the necessities and some meds, just in case. _If I'm going to live during the end of the world I want my hair to smell like lavender, thank you very much._

I quickly changed out of my work attire and into sweatpants, boots, and a t-shirt. I had left my coat in the playroom but decided against going back for it in case it was impossible to kill dead people. Instead, I exited the bathroom and grabbed a jacket hanging off the edge of the headboard of the bed. Putting it on, I motioned for the kids to follow me as I hefted the duffel and grabbed another bag off the door handle of the closet.

Leaving the room, I led the children to the stairs, all the while hoping they wouldn't notice the blood stains. Once on the ground floor, I turned to go to the kitchen. I began to raid the cabinets, stuffing the extra bag with all the canned goods I could find. In a moment of mental clarity, I raided the silverware drawer, pulling out a can opener. While I was crossing the kitchen to the basement door, I paused as I caught sight of the living room. I saw Alice's little Hello Kitty backpack sitting on the floor, along with some toys and other paraphernalia. "Sweetie?" I called looking back to see her sitting on one of the stools by the kitchen island, "can you get your things together?" She nodded silently and hopped down, Charlie close behind.

I went down into the basement, grabbing the bottled water from where it was kept on a high shelf. I stuffed some into the bag, and then grabbed the rest, bringing it upstairs to put in the duffel. Just as I went to see if the fridge had any more water, I heard a scream come from the living room. I rushed in to see Alice and Charlie quivering on the couch, three goons plastered up against the window. The granny from before was there, along with two new guys. I glared at them as if to intimidate them, but they just snapped their teeth and clawed at the glass.

I was on edge as I grabbed the kids and took them toward the kitchen. Then, while passing the fireplace, giddiness rose in my brain at my extreme luck as I took in the double-barreled shotgun hung above the mantel, gleaming in the afternoon sun coming from the windows.

_If it's shiny…._

I sat the kids at the kitchen counter, and then went back to the living room, grabbing the gun and Alice's mostly packed satchel. "Now if I were ammo…" I muttered, looking around the room and trying to ignore the groans coming from outside, "where would I be?" I caught sight of the display case sitting on top of a set of drawers.

_Bingo._

I opened the drawer closest to the door and was unsurprised to find a box of ammunition. I grabbed the small box and went to the kitchen. I checked the chambers; the gun was already loaded. _Score!_

I closed the chambers and grabbed the packs. "Okay," I whispered, grabbing Alice, "I need you to keep track of Charlie for me, okay? We just have to get to the car." Alice nodded resolutely. She turned and grabbed Charlie's hand, her grip like iron. "Don't worry mommy," she said in her childish whisper, "I'll take good care of Charlie." I couldn't help but smile at her bravery. I grabbed her and gave her a kiss, then kissed Charlie for the hell of it.

"Okay baby girl," I said, switching the safety off on the gun, "get ready." Grabbing the keys from where they hung by the door to the garage, I swung the door open and unlocked the car with the push of a button. "C'mon!" I said, running and opening the door for the kids. Even as they climbed into the back I could hear the garage door rattling. As I went to get in, fingers crept under the door, wriggling and clawing. I let a whoosh of air out of my lungs and turned the car on.

"Okay," I whispered, my heart trying to climb up my throat, "you can do this."

"Mommy?" Alice whimpered as she peered over her shoulder at the door. There were arms now, with shoulders making their way into the batch, and you could see glistening teeth snapping. I put the car in reverse and put my foot to the floor, slamming through the garage door at about fifteen miles per hour. My speed increased quickly as I backed down the driveway. I caught sight of a pulpy mess in the middle of the drive that used to be a sweet old lady. It was still moving. The other two, joined by a new friend, tried to rush after the car, but I had done some serious damage and was quickly gaining speed, so they were lost in my dust pretty quickly after I turned onto the road.

The sigh of relief I let out was loud and long. I felt it reflected my day very well.

"Where are we going?" Alice's timid voice rose from the back and I looked in the rear-view mirror to see her hand still grasping Charlie's in a vise-like grip. I turned my eyes back to the road, thankful again for rural neighborhoods. "We're going back to the house, honey. We gotta go get Aunty Liz."

"And Dixie?"

"And Dixie, sweetie."

"Because Dixie's gonna have babies soon and I need to be there when she does so I can name one Darcy."

I laughed and shook my head, feeling a smile creep onto my face for what felt like the first time in a long time. "I should not have let you watch Pride and Prejudice."

She giggled, and I saw her relax her grip on poor Charlie's hand. "Mommy?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"I love you."

I gave her my biggest, happiest smile, and she gave it right back.

"Most ardently."

* * *

><p>I drove around the house five times before I deemed it safe to get out. We left the supplies in the car and ran to the front door. I felt a sense of déjà vu as I called my sister's name.<p>

"Lizzy? Elizabeth, you there?"

The door burst open and I tried to jump away, but I was caught in a tight bear hug that I knew was un-escapable.

"Thank God." she said breathlessly into my ear. She pulled away and I looked at her. She looked how I imagined I looked. Frazzled, and a little bit like a crazy person. "I've been worried sick!"

She pulled the three of us into the house, pausing only slightly upon seeing Charlie. He gave her a shy smile hugging his dog to his chest. She smiled back, and then dropped it when she turned to look at me.

"Have you packed?" I asked, already halfway up the stairs. She followed after me, hurrying to catch up.

"Are you kidding? I don't even know what the hell has been going on! The power went out four hours ago. I've been cut off from the outside world for four. Whole. Hours." She grabbed my shoulder and wrenched me back to face her. "I've been here, listening to the radio spout this evacuation nonsense and there's been screaming outside the house." She stopped ranting and took a deep breath. "They said that the army was handling the city, and I knew it had to be worse there…" Tears were streaming down her face, her voice choked. I grabbed her and held her in my arms.

"I'm just so glad…so happy you're okay."

I buried my face in her hair and just stood. For a moment. I drew strength from being in my twins' arms, wrapped around my other half, feeling complete. "The feeling's mutual," I whispered into her hair, hearing her draw in a shaky breath, "but right now, we need to gather our stuff and get out of this hell hole, or else, pretty soon, we won't be okay." I felt a few more tears run down my face and shook myself, holding her at arm's length so I could look into her eyes, each of us the mirror image of the other. "Okay?" She let go of her breath, letting it calm her.

"Okay."

I went to my room, picked up a second duffel bag and grabbed another pair of boots and a few more changes of clothes, mostly consisting of underwear and socks. Then I went to Alice's room, stuffing the mostly empty bag with as many of her clothes as I could, along with her most durable shoes. I saw her favorite stuffed teddy bear and grabbed it for her. As I came out I watched Liz exit the hallway bathroom. She held up her bag. "Tampons."

I smiled and shook my head. "Always."

She smiled back at me then went into her room to pack her clothes. I went back down the stairs. For the first time I thought to check my cell phone, but then remembered it was in the pocket of my coat. I shook my head, feeling foolish. It's not like I would need it anyway.

I went to the living room where Alice and Charlie were sitting petting our dog Dixie. I smiled and gave Alice her bear. She smiled back up at me then went back to petting Dixie. I went to the kitchen to start gathering canned goods.

Elizabeth came down with two bags and I grinned at how well she knew me. The second bag was empty so we could put food in it, and she smiled at me as we filled it. "Of course you'd forget to grab a food bag." I rolled my eyes and nudged her shoulder with my own.

"Oh, yeah? You should see the bag in the car. It looks like I raided a store."

She grabbed as much water as she could and stuffed it into the bag. "Where did you get more food from?"

The smile fell off my face as I arranged the contents of the bag so I could close it more easily. "Therese."

She paused, taking in my expression. "Is she…"

I shook my head, staring at Alice as she tried to communicate with Charlie.

"Oh."

I kept my gaze on the group in the living room as I shook my head slowly. "A pregnant dog. We just had to have a pregnant dog."

Liz smiled sadly. "It is what it is."

I grasped the food bag and the clothes bag, putting one over each shoulder. "We should get out of here."

"Wait!" Liz exclaimed as a light bulb lit up over her head. "I gotta get something!" She rushed into the living room to the trunk that sat under the window. Opening it, she began throwing blankets over her shoulders. "Shoot, that's what I was forgetting!" I exclaimed softly to myself. I began picking blankets up off the floor when I heard a loud click. I looked up to see Liz holding a pistol, with me in her sights. "How 'bout them apples?" she said, giving me a shit eating grin. The kids, who had rushed to get onto the couch as soon as Liz started her throwing spree, got down and went to stand where Dixie was sitting, wagging her tail as she sensed the excitement in the air. Liz placed the pistol carefully on the ground and went back to the trunk. "There are a few more of them in here, and some ammunition. Mom left them in the trunk when she gave it to us. Must have forgotten to clean it out."

I shook my head in astonishment. Of course she would look inside the old trunk. I had never wondered about it, just accepted it and pictured it rotting in the attic.

"I think we're ready now, don't you?"

I nodded and placed the blankets so they draped over the bags. "Yeah, we need to go. Now."

As Liz gathered the kids and the dog, I looked out the window at the surroundings. I didn't see anything, but as Liz passed me I grabbed the gun she offered me, checking to see if it was loaded and switching the safety off.

As we left the house I felt like a secret agent, Liz down low and me up high, checking right and left respectively. "All clear." I said, keeping an eye on the car.

"All clear." she repeated. Together we ran to the car, Liz running in front and me checking our backs. Liz hopped into the driver's side as I opened the door for the kids. After they were in and Dixie was situated I ran around the front of the car, Liz revving the engine and looking around nervously. I hopped in and put on my seatbelt. "Everyone buckled in?"

"Yep!" Alice chirped. Dixie let out a bark.

Liz just rolled her eyes and nodded. She began driving, taking the back streets where there would be no major traffic. "So where are we going?"

I paused and thought it over. "I have no idea. All I know is that we need to get out of the city, ASAP." She nodded resolutely. "Okay." She turned left, so we could begin making our way to the highway.

Then, all hell broke loose.

The car jerked to a stop as we caught sight of the troopers, running toward us. I was wondering why they were running when I saw it.

The horde.

It was an army of dead. Every so many steps a soldier would turn and shoot at the mass, but where one fell another took its place. I heard a gasp and looked to see Liz, stricken with fear, frozen in position.

"Elizabeth!" I said, shaking her. "We've got to get out of here!"

By then the soldiers had caught sight of us, and were running toward us, not stopping to take down any more of the creatures.

"Elizabeth!" I shouted, watching as they grew nearer and nearer. "Liz!"

She snapped out of it in time for a soldier to open her door and pull her out, shoving her to the ground. I had locked my door but the man on my side put the butt of his rifle through the window, grazing my temple. He stuck his hand through the broken glass and unlocked the door. He yanked me out and I hit the ground. Hard. Everything was in a daze as I heard the men yelling, a dog barking, and a little girl screaming. Then there was a thump beside my head. I looked up to see my bag of food beside me, and Therese's car peeling away.

Sound rushed back into my ears.

"Fuck!" Liz was screaming as she rose and started gathering our bags. I heard Alice crying and saw her huddled next to Charlie, holding both her bear and his dog. To my surprise he was holding the double-barrel in his white-knuckle grip, staring down the road. Dixie was in a frenzy, barking at the dead that were advancing at a quick rate.

I gained my feet and took control.

"Leave it!" I yelled to Liz as she picked up her bag. "Leave everything but the guns and ammo!" I quickly ripped open the bag with the shells for the shot gun. I grabbed said gun from Charlie's hands then secured the pistol in the waistband of my pants. I grabbed the kids and pushed them towards the houses.

"Go!" They began running in the general direction of the outskirts of town, toward the highway. "Dixie!" I was screaming now, my voice cracking with fear. "Guard!" I pointed to my daughter's retreating back and the dog shot off, ready to keep my baby safe at all costs.

Liz was on her feet, backing away from the horde. She looked at me and I nodded. In unison we turned and began to run after the kids.

If my calculations were correct we had seven rows of houses to get though before we hit the group of trees right before the highway. Seven blocks to lose an army. The trees were on a hill, another obstacle to traverse. And none of this actually guaranteed our safety.

We were only on the third block and I could feel myself getting tired. Liz and I had gained on the kids, now right behind them.

The fourth block. The fifth. One of the dead appeared in front of us and I raised my shot gun, firing in the general direction of her head. I must have broken a record somewhere for being the luckiest girl alive, because I saw brains splatter across the pavement. The sixth block. I wanted to die.

As we came to the seventh block, I caught sight of the trees. Hope spread in my chest. We were almost there.

Then Alice tripped.

Liz got her legs tangled in the wreckage.

Charlie was still running, not noticing anything going on around him. I was a few feet ahead of where Alice and Liz were crumpled on the ground.

"Alice!" I screamed running back to them. Alice curled in a ball around her teddy, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Mommy, it hurts!" Her knees were scraped and she was out of breath. "I don't wanna run anymore."

I was in hysterics as I knelt down. "I know baby, I know. We can stop soon. We just have to go a little farther. Just a little farther..." But she wasn't taking any of my bull crap, so I picked her up and started towards the trees again. Liz had already stood, slowly hobbling her way, favoring her left foot. Charlie had made it to the trees, only to find that we weren't with him. He stood uncertainly, clutching his dog. Dixie was running back and forth between us all, stopping at every possible moment to growl at the horde at our backs.

I passed Liz. Then I stopped to wait for her to catch up. "Go!" she yelled, waving me on. "Hurry!"

I nodded and went back to running at full speed, Dixie at my heels. I freed an arm from my hold on Alice and motioned for Charlie to keep going. He didn't hesitate and began to ascend the hill. When I reached the trees I instantly began the trek upward, my legs burning and my lungs gasping for air. I felt like I smoked for a living. I felt Alice's tears soak through my shirt, and my fleeting thought was that I forgot to kiss her better.

I had caught up to Charlie. We were halfway up the hill. My pulse was pounding in my ears and I felt as though with every step my body was going to shake apart, and would leave me in pieces for the dead to devour.

Then the top of the hill came, and I felt breath enter my body for the first time in ten minutes. The highway lay before us like a long gray ribbon, twisting over a green dress. But we weren't in the clear yet. As I steeled myself for another run I glimpsed movement out of the corner of my eye. Setting Alice down, I gripped my shot gun and turned toward the threat, only to see a big, black, four-door Ford stop some ten meters away. A man with a shaved head and week-old scruff leaned out the window, eyebrow raised.

"Need a lift?"

Luckiest. Girl. Ever. Those are my three words, yessir.

With strength that I didn't know I possessed, I picked up both Alice and Charlie, ran to the second door on the driver's side of the truck and stuffed them in, then cooed for Dixie to jump up as well. She did, and then I turned to Liz and started to yell for her to get in.

But Liz wasn't right behind me.

I stared with wide-eyes at the empty space of pavement in front of me. Then I slowly began to walk back the way I came.

"Mommy!" Alice screamed as I made my way back to the trees. "Mommy!"

A door slammed. I began to jog. "Liz." I whispered, in a daze. With every repetition of her name, my speed increased. By the time I reached the tree line I was running, screaming my twin's name. "Liz! Elizabeth!"

I was about to sprint down the hill, when I got tackled from behind.

"Woah, there. You're headin' in the wrong direction." Even as he said it I saw the horde through the foliage, making its way slowly up the hill.

I was still screaming at the top of my lungs. "Let me go you heartless son-of-a-bitch! My sister is down there!" I struggled against him as he dragged me toward his truck. He was undeterred by my screams. He threw me into the open driver's side door then shoved me across to the passenger's side as he got in. Quickly, before I got any ideas he pulled my shot gun out of my grasp and locked the doors. He stepped hard on the gas and we shot away, leaving the horde, and my Elizabeth, behind us. I crumpled into the passenger's seat, numb.

* * *

><p>The truck slowed to a stop and our would-be savior swore. I took in the seemingly endless line of cars on the road. There was honking and yelling. People were nervous at best, frantic and angry at worst.<p>

"I guess we're stopping here for a minute." He glanced at me, then shrugged, exiting the car. "I'm gonna see what all the holdup 's about."

I heard his heavy footsteps walk away. I imagined myself getting out of the car and running back from where I came, to Liz. I was already going crazy.

"Mommy?" I turned and saw Alice looking over the shoulder of the seat. "Are you okay?"

I chuckled bitterly, remembering all the 'okay's' that were said today. "I'm fine, sweety. Just tired."

"Oh." She was quiet for a little while, then spoke up again.

"Mommy?"

"Yeah, hun?"

"Can we watch the sunset together?"

I paused, then lifted my head to take in the orange sky. It must have been around seven or eight in the evening. I rose into an upright position and motioned for her to come sit in my lap. I caught a glimpse of Charlie. He was curled up around his dog toy, sleeping, using Dixie as a pillow. Alice climbed into my seat and we watched as the sun went down over the city skyline.

I think that, with the day ending and all, what happened while the light was out rushed back to me, and I realized the situation I was in. I was in a strangers' truck, with no money, no food, and only the borrowed clothes on my back and the shells in my jacket pocket to keep me safe. I had a pregnant Doberman and two kids in tow; a deaf nine year old and a five year old who still believed in Santa Claus. My identical twin sister was dead.

My shoulders shook as I wept silently, disbelieving that I had any more tears left to give. Alice had fallen asleep against me, and I tried to keep from shaking hard enough to wake her. My eyes were still blurry when the man came back and got into the truck. "The line goes on for-fucking-ever. There's no way we'll get out like this." He looked out his window, then did a double take, looking out over the city.

"Holy hell."

I leaned to the right to catch a glimpse of what he was looking at. I began to ask what it was when fires burst up from the city, the tongues of flames licking the night air. The man turned to face me as I watched the city burn. He reached his hand out.

"Name's Ferris. You?"

I took his hand, trying to remember how it was I called myself, in my past life.

"Juliet."

He cracked a smile and gave my hand a firm shake. "Well met."

I kept my eyes glued to the flames. Through my tears, the colors of the sky and the ground blended, and became one. I could almost hear a scream rising from the city, only to be silenced by the crackling of flames. As though someone else shared my thoughts, a wail broke through the quiet that had fallen over the line of cars, as if a person had heard the screams of the thousands of voices from the flames suddenly stop, and it had broken their heart. As the wail filled the air, it was taken up by the multitudes, the night filled with despair.

I curled around my daughter as the first building gave way.

Los Angeles had fallen.

* * *

><p>AN: Well, there you have it. Kinda awkward and totally unbelievable, but it's the zombie apocalypse so hopefully it works. I had to work in as many pot devices as possible in the first chapter, I guess. And I know, 'Juliet'? What kind of name is that? I'm sorry. I've been watching too much Psyche lately. And yes, there is no group in this chapter, and probably none in the next chapter either. Gotta set things up, you know? Ah, well. If you have the time, I would love some R&R, because I read this over about five times and I'm still sure I missed some major gramatical errors. I also just like reading comments. (Who doesn't?)

Also, Zombieland references. There might be a lot of those since it's the most recent zombie movie i've watched and I'm into that kind of humor. (I kinda imagine Ferris to be played by Woody Harrelson, but that might be a bit too much...)

Toodles, for now!


	2. Poor Wayfaring Strangers

AN: Finally! Here it is! Took me about a month to get out of my system, but I did it! Sadly, I didn't even reach my own expectations with timing, but I think I'm satisfied with how this turned out. Before you read, you should note that I have made some weird Point Of View translations in this chapter, and I intend to keep making these transitions. You see, whenever I start writing a story I always start in First-Person, which is a difficult POV if you're not a very talented writer, like myself. So, I decided to add some Third-Person-Limited POV so we could see more from other characters of which, in this chapter, I've introduced a lot. I've only done it twice here, and for previously introduced characters, and I like the effect, so I'm going to keep it. In a nutshell, the POV switches were planned, so don't worry about pointing them out to me. Hope you don't get tired of it somewhere in the middle: It's a long chapter. Had to set the stage, you know? With that said, I bid you happy reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead, the song "Poor Wayfaring Stranger" (the version I listen to is by Natalie Merchant), the song "With You" by Superchick, or the characters of Sylvester and Tweety. Go figure.

* * *

><p><em>I am a poor wayfaring stranger <em>

_Travelling through this world of woe_

_But there's no sickness, toil or danger _

_In that bright land to which I go_

_Well, I'm going there to meet my father_

_He said he'd meet me when I come_

_I'm only going over Jordan_

_I'm only going over home_

_I know dark clouds will gather 'round me_

_I know my way'll be rough and steep_

_But beautiful fields lie just before me_

_where God's redeemed their vigils keep_

_Well, I'm going there to meet my loved ones_

_Gone on before me, one by one_

_I'm only going over Jordan_

_I'm only going over home_

_I'll soon be free of earthy trials_

_My body rest in the old church yard_

_I'll drop this cross of self-denial_

_And I'll go singing home to God_

_Well, I'm going there to meet my Savior_

_To dwell with Him and never roam_

_I'm only going over Jordan_

_I'm only going over home_

_-Traditional_

_I remember running in another life. My legs burned and I would start gasping before I reached the second stretch on the school's track. Running had always been my greatest downfall. Even after I joined gymnastics and had to run a mile just to start the day, it still killed me. I hated the jarring movement and the searing heat that would take over my limbs. I'm thankful, though, because in this life, if you can't run…_

_You're a dead man walking. In the most literal sense._

* * *

><p>I never had a dad growing up. I'd heard that people who dropped out of high school, abused drugs, and went to prison more often than not never had fathers either. I never understood why. My life was fine without my dad; peachy, even. I never got what the hype was all about. Who cares if your dad's a lawyer, or a dentist, or a police officer? Who cares if your dad plays ball with you on the weekends and makes the best steak dinner you've ever tasted? I mean, whatever, right? My mother was a perfectly good provider, and my sister and I were never left wanting for anything.<p>

I didn't understand why fathers were important until I was pregnant and my fiancé left me to work in some big corporate company in New York.

Something inside of me clicked then, as I sat in the hospital after the doctor was done checking me over and asking me questions. I realized that, in some way, it would have made me feel better if I could have told Dr. Whittaker that my husband was waiting for me back home, and he had a stable job, and he would take good care of us; me and his child. I felt a bit disillusioned; how could I raise a kid all by myself? I had waited until I knew that I was ready to have children, but I never factored in my baby daddy taking off and leaving me all by my lonesome. In hindsight, I guess twenty-three is still a bit young to have a baby as well….

Still, even if I didn't have a father, that didn't mean I wanted that life for my child.

It wasn't until Ferris that I realized I could give her that life.

It took a few close calls, some burnt rabbit, and getting out of California for us to become close, but during all that time I saw the way he would try to communicate with Charlie, and made sure Dixie always had enough to eat, and how he would bring Alice small trinkets from our supply runs to keep her busy on the road. That stuff really opened my eyes and showed me that Ferris was way more than just some man who picked us up off the side of the road.

He was my second chance at giving my daughter a normal childhood. Well, as normal as it could get, considering everything that was going on around us. And I was happy that she had him looking out for her and giving her his attention.

Honest.

We had stopped just after the state line. I wasn't sure where in Arizona we were, but it didn't matter, as long as we were out of the hell hole that was California. I felt like I'd seen more death and destruction than someone who fought in Vietnam, and I needed a place to rest my bones, just for a few hours.

I walked up behind Ferris, who was standing off to the side of the small plateau we had situated ourselves on for safety's sake. He was lost in thought, staring into the space beyond our makeshift haven.

"The kids are asleep. I put Dixie on the far side of camp. She'll make sure we know about any of the dead." He nodded absently, his face serene in the light of the dying sun. I almost turned to leave and get some much needed sleep, but something stopped me. It might have been the melancholy in his expression, or my need to understand others, but whatever it was, it changed my life from that moment on.

I gently laid my hand on his shoulder. He turned to me, and waited patiently for me to speak. "I just wanted to thank you…"I swallowed and gestured toward the truck, "…for this. All of this. I…we wouldn't still be here if it weren't for you." I winced at my awkward words and waited to see if he'd respond. After a few moments I started to make my way back, but stopped as he cleared his throat.

"Annie."

I heard him sigh, and that made me turn to look at him. He held his face in one hand, and then dragged it back over his shaven head, giving me a clear look at his broken countenance. "My daughter. Her name was Annie." His voice shook as he spoke, and I felt my heart clench as he looked at me with watery eyes. "When you came outta that brush the way you did, for a moment…" his voice broke and his face fell into his hands, "…for a moment I thought I had her back."

I was startled at the tears that streamed down my face as I went to him; they blurred my vision as I put a hand on his shoulder and gripped it tightly, trying to convey my sympathy. His head raised, and he gently grabbed my hand, holding it in place. "Then…even though I knew you weren't her, I knew that I'd never forgive myself for leaving you, and the picture of you on the ground holding your baby girl would haunt me for the rest of my life."

Hesitantly, I pulled him into my embrace…or was I pulled into his? It was hard to tell when he seemed big enough to take on the world, but so small as he wept for his daughter. I don't know how long we stood in the comfort of each others' arms, but in those spare moments of peace, an understanding came over me, like a fog lifting from my mind.

I had felt a little jealous of my daughter when Ferris would dote on her. But then I realized that Ferris didn't just take care of my family; he took care of me. He always seemed to be beside me, whether I was making dinner or struggling with a face-eating monster. He protected me, cared for me, and he was _there._

When he pulled away and gave me a sad, watery smile, I gave it right back. "Funny," I whispered, my voice hoarse, "here you are looking for a daughter, and here I am." I paused, my words trying to stick in my throat. "I never looked for my father." I turned to gaze at the horizon, the sky streaked in a dazzling array of colors. "I never thought to."

He turned to watch the sky as well, shifting us so I was tucked under his arm. "You shouldn't worry 'bout it too much." He ruffled my hair softly and let out a chuckle. "I think all the lookin' 's been done for ya."

We watched the sun slip out of the sky, then turned and went to the bed of the truck. There, Alice and Charlie slept peacefully on top of piles of blankets. I was thankful for the warm climate and dry weather; we didn't have a tent and, though the truck had a bigger interior than most, it was stifling to stay in all day and night. We climbed onto the makeshift bed simultaneously. I tucked myself on the far left, pulling Alice close to my chest. Ferris propped himself against the back, his leg running parallel to the sleeping Charlie. Ferris rested a hand on the boy's head protectively. I knew he would try to stay up as long as he could, watching out for danger. Even though he looked exhausted, I knew it was no use to try to persuade him to sleep. I decided I would drive in the morning so he could get some rest on the ride.

"Goodnight, Ferris."

"G'night, Juliet.

I closed my eyes, and the thought was clear in my head, reassuring me: I could give my daughter the kind of life she deserved. The kind with a father.

And, you know what? Maybe it wasn't too late for me to have that life too.

* * *

><p>Ferris had to laugh at Juliet's horrified look. He knew he must look like shit after what he'd been through, but he felt 'okay' in general, so there was nothin' too big to worry 'bout.<p>

He'd gone out with Dixie to hunt. He had been surprised at how adept the dog was at finding a scent and scarin' game out of the woods, but when he actually stopped to think about it, he kinda already knew that Dixie was an extraordinary dog, and could probably do just about anythin'.

It was only when she scared out a mountain lion that he began to question the dog's intelligence.

Thankfully, a mountain lion stood no chance against a Texan with great aim and a Doberman, but that didn't mean they got out unscathed.

"Oh my God," Juliet rushed up to him, jumping back a little when she noticed the big cat slung over his shoulder, "what the hell happened? And what _is_ that?"

Ferris let out a bark of laughter. "Me 'n Dixie Girl caught ourselves a kitty-cat." He let the cat drop to the ground and sat down heavily beside it, resting his arms on his knees. "You should check up on 'er though, think she might 'a got scratched pretty good."

Juliet gave him a disbelieving look, taking in the four scratch marks than ran down his face, his left eye closed where the right outermost mark ran though his brow, over his eyelid, and down to the top of his cheekbone. And that mark was the shortest. The rest that ran to the left came down to the middle of his cheek.

"Seriously, I'm fine." Juliet shook her head, exasperated, but went to look over Dixie, who had a light scratch on her haunch. Alice and Charlie ran over, finally noticing his arrival.

"Wow, what did you do?" Alice asked, staring at him in awe. Charlie nodded his head, reading Alice's lips and watching with rapt attention for Ferris' answer.

"I got into a little tussle with our friend Sylvester over here." He brought their gaze to the cat with a gesture of his thumb. "He was trying to eat a Tweety Bird, so I offed 'im."

Both of the children nodded in understanding. "I t'ought I saw a puddy tat," Alice recited. Ferris chuckled, bending at the waist and shaking his head in mirth.

Charlie held up a crooked finger and grimaced. Alice laughed and clapped her hands together, delighted. "Charlie's right! You do look like a pirate!" Again Ferris chortled, this time falling on his back with the force of his laughter.

"Alright you two, leave Ferris alone and get ready for dinner. We're having curry tonight." The kids scurried off in a hurry to get washed up in the water they stored in a rain barrel in the back of the truck that they reserved for that purpose. While they'd conversed, Juliet had gone and gotten a first aid kit. Now, with Dixie tended to, it was Ferris' turn.

"Hold still," she said as she applied peroxide, "this might sting…a lot." He winced as he felt the antiseptic on his face, but the discomfort soon faded and he relaxed under her gentle hands.

"Curry, huh? How'd you manage that?"

"It's just white rice, cream of mushroom soup, and some curry powder that a filched on our last run…." She paused, then whispered; "…And that rattlesnake that you got this morning. They would probably freak out if they knew, but in this case, what they don't know can't hurt them."

Ferris smiled. "Mmmm….rattler in my curry. Sounds good." With his good eye he appraised her, an impressed look on his face. "You're a good cook, you know. Might have to keep ya around." She laughed and turned his face into the dying sunlight, taking in her handy work.

"I might be a good cook, but I have no idea what to do with the lion." She gave the big cat a calculating look. "Dog food, maybe?"

"Nah, we should eat it. Cultural experiences and whatnot."

"What culture? Chinese? I wouldn't eat half the shit they cook over there."

"That's kinda racist, thinkin' of the Chinese first."

"You're right. They eat dogs, don't they? Which just enforces my argument against their cuisine."

"…dog food, then."

"Damn straight."

"Heh. Dog food."

"Shut up."

* * *

><p>We met the boys halfway through Arizona. I immediately made out Seth to be overbearing and a bit of a micromanager. Gilligan seemed laidback, but less in an 'I'm stress-free' way and more in an 'I'm totally tripping right now' way. And Bernard? He was just a klutz.<p>

Then again, I bet we made fairly bad impressions too. It's hard to get a good reading on people when you're running for your lives.

"This bag weighs as much as a fucking elephant!" I yelled as I pounded across the pavement, not daring to slow down or turn my head to look behind me. "Why the hell would you give the hundred-twenty pound girl the bag of guns?"

"Shut up and save your breath!" Ferris emphasized his statement by shooting a couple rounds at the pack of goons behind us. "You can't shoot for shit anyways!"

"Both of you shut up and run!" Seth followed Ferris' lead and shot at the slowly gaining herd. Ahead of us, Bernard almost lost his footing for the eighth time, but somehow managed to stay upright. His legs were so long, I guess they just caught on things easily. Gilligan ran to my left, in the most nonchalant manner a man running away from cannibals possibly could.

It had happened so quickly; one minute, we're in a Bass Pro getting loaded and meeting other survivors who are also getting loaded, and the next minute the dead are after us like a fat man after cake.

Or, you know, zombies after flesh.

Whatever floats your boat and gets your goat.

"There!" Seth pointed to a building ahead. The doors look fairly solid, like they would hold for a while with multiple bodies pressed against them. Bernard threw the doors open and held them for all of us. Once we were inside he slammed the doors, and then frantically began to look for something to bar them with. In a moment of inspiration, I grabbed some necklaces from a rotating display and used them to chain the doors closed.

"Smart thinkin'," Ferris said after I was done, "where'd you learn that?"

"Saw it in a movie, once."

"Ah."

"The roof." Seth was already making his way to the back of the store, to where the staircase would be located. "The roof is the safest place." By then the dead had made their way to the doors, pounding against the glass and making my makeshift chains strain with their weight. Needless to say, we followed Seth up to the roof.

Once there, I could see how this could be a win-lose situation.

On the plus side, we were on a roof.

On the downside, we were on a roof.

"Fuck," Ferris swore, staring at the surroundings, "now what do we do?" I could understand his point; we were about two stories up, which was too high to jump. There were no building close enough to cross over to and, when examining the rooftop further, we found no fire escapes to help us…well, escape.

Ferris and I were beside ourselves. How the hell were we supposed to get out of this? We'd left the kids in a fool-proof hiding spot, but we'd only planned to be gone for an hour, tops. Now there was no chance of getting back to them. I grabbed Ferris' arm, frightened to the point of hysteria.

Then Gilligan pulled out a flask.

"You plan on drinking at a time like this?" I whispered, part confused, part mortified, "you're barely lucid as it is!"

Seth snorted and grabbed the small bottle. "It's not for drinking." He walked over to the edge of the roof, right where the dead were trying to enter the doors. He opened the flask and poured it over the side of the roof. It was almost surreal; like a man throwing holy water on demons. Ironic, because said holy water was alcohol.

Out of his pocket, Seth drew a match book. He selected a match and struck it on the cement ledge of the roof. "You pick up some tricks when you've been in as much shit as we have." He let the match drop, and it disappeared over the edge.

I released Ferris and moved to stand near him, watching as the dead slowly went up into flames. Their already rotten bodies began to fall apart as they were roasted into nothing. The air filled with the stench of burning flesh.

_Cleansed by fire._

* * *

><p>We were heading to Fort Worth, Texas. Ferris said he had family there, and if anything survived the end of the world, it would be the Fort. I was doubtful at best.<p>

The boys said they'd come down from the northwest. Everything was gone there too. They had been heading to California because they heard things were better on the coast. They joined us after we told them of the Sunshine State's fate. "If all else fails, we'll head for the east coast," Seth had said as we prepared to leave on our first day as a group, "Florida is a peninsula, and won't be surrounded by zombie-filled states. Plus, the ocean might be the only safe place left in the world."

The boys were well equipped for the journey. Ferris, the kids and I probably stared at their amazing setup for five minutes before Bernard asked about our health.

They had a Hummer.

And not the normal civilian kind of Hummer, mind you. This car looked like it was taken right off an army base, and it probably was. There was a small trailer attached to the back, and once we were shown the contents we marveled at the sight. In the trailer there were boxes and boxes of canned goods, bottled water, and basic necessities that made life all the more easy. There were even a couple tanks of gas, full to the brim. And, in the far reaches of the trailer, you could make out gun barrels sticking out of bags, and ammunition boxes piled on top of each other.

You see, I was right about Seth being a little…eccentric.

That's putting it mildly.

He had a routine for everything. If there was no routine, he had a plan. He had a written schedule of our rotation for driving the vehicles. He kept an inventory of all the food, ammunition, and weapons we had in our possession. When we went on a supply run, each of us would be given a knife, a pistol, and a larger gun, like a rifle or a shotgun. When we got back we would catalogue the items we returned with, and how many rounds we'd used. It was tedious and a bit time consuming, but, in all honesty, it kept us alive. That's what matters.

This brings us to the topic of hoarding. I always thought collecting things in bulk was probably detrimental to your health and lifestyle. I also thought that during the apocalypse hoarding would probably get you killed because you'd be too attached to your material possessions.

I learned that that sentiment is a load of bullshit.

There was a security in having a stockpile of guns close at hand, and food that could last us a few weeks in case we were indisposed. It helped that all of us got along, even though Ferris and Seth would butt heads every once in a while. We began to learn from each other. Gilligan showed us that you could find large industrial sized cans of food in school kitchens. Ferris taught everyone how to hunt, even though the boys didn't really need it (I think they were all humoring me, but shooting that first bottle off that post made it all worth it). I think the real ice breaker came when Bernard returned from a run with a book on ASL. Soon, everyone was trying to learn in their spare time. Alice picked it up the fastest, because she was always with Charlie, and it made me smile when I would look in the rear-view mirror and see their hands moving lightning fast, communicating with each other. It really brought the group together, working toward a common goal. It even became a ritual that we all signed at least one sentence to Charlie before he went to bed.

Eventually, though, when you hoard, you run out of space.

That's where the semi came in.

"No way. It's not happening," I stated as I stared at the hulking truck. "Can you imagine how much gas that thing would guzzle?"

"That doesn't matter," Seth said with a calculating look on his face, "we're running out of room in the trailer."

"Yeah, but there's only five of us that can drive. Three cars will be spreading us pretty thin."

"It's worth the risk."

I sighed and shook my head. My argument was flimsy anyways. "You guys got anything?" I shouted to the rest of our crew as I turned to survey the congested highway.

"Here!" Bernard came over with two tanks of gasoline, filled almost to their tops. "This is it so far." Seth gave him a nod.

"Just leave them there. We'll handle it." Bernard turned and made his way back to the area of were Ferris and Gilligan were siphoning gas.

Alice, who was standing beside me with Charlie, tugged my hand to grab my attention. "It's blue, mommy! My favorite color!" My shoulders slumped at her eagerness and I gave in, but not before asking Seth;

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

And after that, we never had to worry about too much hoarding again.

* * *

><p>"Remind me why the hell we're in a pet store?" Seth glared around at the relatively small shop, bouncing on his feet nervously.<p>

"Dixie needs food." Alice said matter-of-factly. She stood behind Ferris and me as we checked the area, making sure it was safe to wander. Her attention was stolen by a fish tank that was situated under the counter, and scrunched her nose in disgust at the dead, rotting fish that floated inside the algae covered container.

"And why is she here?" I looked over my shoulder at the exasperated man and gave him a knowing look.

"You think you could you resist that pout?" On cue, Alice looked up at him with her big green eyes and made her lower lip tremble, her cherub face framed by her curly, angel hair.

Seth blinked. "I see your point." Alice gave him a bright smile, and then bounced over to me, where I stood with my hands on my hips, taking in the surroundings.

"Can I look now?" she said, tugging on my jeans.

Ferris sighed. "This place is probably no good." You could tell by looking around that when the disaster hit, the owner must have released as many animals as he could, probably in an attempt to save them. The interior of the store was a wreck. The cages were open, there was scat covering the ground, and the audible squeaking in the dark corners of the room made it doubtful that there was any dog food around that hadn't been partially eaten by rodents.

"We're here, though. Can't hurt to look." Ferris began to make his way to the back, keeping a sharp eye out for any movement. I grabbed Alice and hoisted her up onto a clean spot on the counter.

"Stay here with Seth, okay? We're gonna look around." She nodded and began to look at her surroundings, her attention already being draw by the collars, leashes, and small packages of treats that were behind the counter.

I followed Ferris, keeping a wary eye out for anything dangerous that might eat my toes. At the back, in a corner on some wooden platforms, sat the dog food. Lots of it seemed to be covering the ground and I was doubtful we'd find any whole bags. Still, we began to check all of them, hoping beyond hope we wouldn't have to risk ourselves again by going to another store.

Ferris lifted his third bag, and something moved.

"Holy shit!" "Oh my God!" We yelled and screamed, respectively.

Seth burst into the area, Alice on his heels. "What? What is it?" When he saw it, he jumped back, startled.

"Fuck!"

Within the piles of dog food, lying in wait for a hungry, innocent gerbil to come along and scramble right into its coils, lay an enormous boa constrictor who, when it sensed a disruption in its living environment began to thrash and writhe, rearing up its reptilian head to gaze at the ones who disturbed its hunting ground.

"Wow. That's a big snake." Alice said, staring at it with wide eyes. Then she turned to Seth. "Fuck is a bad word, you know."

"Alice," I hissed, inching between her and the deadly animal, "It's still a bad word when you say it. So don't."

"Do boas bite?"Ferris asked grabbing for his knife.

"I don't think so…" Seth said, trailing off.

"Good." Ferris sprung, plunging the knife through its scaly head. Its body began to spasm tenfold, and I was afraid Ferris would be knocked down by the enormous coils. He held firm though, and eventually the snake stilled, dead.

Ferris lifted it by its huge body, at what I thought would be the middle. "Well, lookie there! Dog food!"

I blinked at him.

"Let's keep looking."

* * *

><p>I was running again. This time, though, I didn't have a bag of guns to tote around or anyone to complain about them to. I was alone.<p>

Well, as alone as you could get with half a dozen dead men chasing you.

We had arrived in Fort Worth after a week of traveling. Texas was completely congested no matter what road you turned on, and it made for slow, dangerous going. The slower you are, you see, the more quickly the dead can catch up. That's what happened to us. We got to the Joint Reserve Base and found it crawling with dead. Thankfully, everyone else got out just fine. I, however, was cut off before I could get back to the truck.

I was panting for breath as I rounded the corner of one of the buildings in the base. Up ahead, two more goons appeared, cutting off my route. I turned and sprinted to the left, toward a more open area. I looked back to see how much distance was between me and my pursuers.

I never saw the barbed wire until I was tangled in it.

I let out a small scream as my legs were jerked out from under me by my own velocity suddenly being halted. The wire cut into my calves and I fell, landing head first into the death trap. I realized I must have been in a training area, where they made you crawl under the wire as an exercise. I frantically tried to free myself, but my hair caught in the wire, grinding all major movement to a halt. I started to hyperventilate as the dead drew near.

With all my strength and resolve I jerked my hair out of the wire, leaving small, bloody clumps of it behind. It made me scream again, but it was worth it as I managed to start to maneuver my way out of the wire. I felt my clothes snagging and ripping, and was about to try to wrestle out of my jacket when something grabbed my ankle.

I looked down to see a gaping maw of rotting teeth and glazed over eyes gazing back at me. I kicked and screamed, turning myself onto my side for better leverage. I watched as the other goons began to get caught in the wire, and started to crawl toward me and my attacker, their flesh ripping open on the sharp barbs and their stench filling the air tenfold. My adrenaline made everything a haze as I made my way under the wire, trying to army crawl out of the mess. My shoe came off in the dead man's hand, but I decided to let him keep it, for safety's sake. He made another grab at me and I was distracted by his teeth nearing my socked foot. In an attempt to get away more quickly, I squirmed, lifting my head to get my elbows under me and move forward.

Pain seared my head and for a split second I thought I'd been scratched. And I had.

A prong on the barbed wire had caught me right behind my left ear. I tried to free it, but I felt my ear get caught in the process, the prong catching in my empty, pierced lobe. The dead man was close, and his friends weren't far behind. I twisted my body again so I was on my back. This made the wire scratch down my neck, but not before taking a small chunk of my ear with it. I eased myself back on my elbows, trying to watch behind and in front of me for more obstacles. I inched under the wire at a slow, deadly pace.

Then, suddenly, I was free. I rose and sprinted across the field, wary of more dangerous obstacles. The only real danger left was getting over the ridiculously tall fence, which had my new nemesis laced around the top to make escape difficult. I vowed to find a pair of wire cutters to keep on my person at all times.

Surprisingly enough, I made it over without getting caught again. And even if I had been caught, my dear friends that had been chasing after me were just beginning to make their way out of the training course. I kept running, trying to keep as much space between myself and those things as possible. I felt rocks cut into my socked foot and cursed silently as I searched my surroundings for any sign of my group. Sadly, I was on the other side of the compound and the chance of me seeing them was slim to none. I ran past the first row of houses that I came across, stopping for a moment to try to catch my breath.

Out of the corner of my eye, a goon snuck toward me. I gritted my teeth and wished for a gun, but of course that day was the day that I forgot to grab my shotgun before I got out of the truck. I moved and raced into a front yard. In a moment of inspiration, I stuck my hands under an unfixed stepping stone and hoisted it up, turning back to the goon, hoping I could keep a hold on the ridiculously heavy rock.

I blinked, and then I felt a little foolish. A young man with a baseball bat looked back at me, his expression disbelieving as he watched me watch him. Our reverie was only broken when a chilling moan ripped through the air, and both our heads jerked toward the sound, watching as a woman limped toward us.

"I got this," I muttered lifting the stone so it was level with my chest. I did a little run toward her to gain some speed and let the rock sort of trail after me, twisting it behind my back. I reached her and swung. The force of the swing crushed her skull, and the left side caved in grotesquely. After she fell to the ground, I dropped the stone on her head, just in case, feeling better that I didn't have to look at her directly.

The young man came to my side and whistled low. "You gotta strong arm, chica." I shrugged, then winced as my muscles pulled. "Yeah," I said, "let's go with that."

"You bit?" He was staring at my head, and I realized I must have been bleeding heavily from my decimated ear.

I shook my head. "Barbed wire." He let out a sharp bark of laughter and nodded.

"That, I can understand. Shit hurts like a bitch."

I smiled at him hesitantly. He looked around the area and then turned, heading deeper in to the rows of houses. When I was slow to follow him, he looked over his shoulder, giving me a quizzical glance. "You comin'?"

I began to walk after him, knowing that he was probably my only chance of survival at this point, especially with my bleeding head that would draw the dead to me quickly and in large numbers. I watched as he hefted his bat and kept looking at his surroundings in a nervous manner. Not that I could judge him for that, though. Everyone who was still alive was probably paranoid. I know I was.

Finally, we reached a small house with boarded windows. The man knocked on the door quietly. It was flung open by a young girl, probably in her mid-teens. "Alfonse!" she cried, glaring at the man. "Where have you been? Abuela has been worried sick!" She gripped his arm and pulled him into the house. Catching sight of me, she gave me an untrusting scowl. "Who's she?"

"Isabel," Alfonse said slowly as he ushered me into the house, "This is a friend of mine. She needs medical attention."

"Oh, yeah?" Isabel looked me up and down then snorted, turning back to her brother. "What's your friend's name?"

When he hesitated she rolled her eyes and turned her back on us, moving to a different room. "She's probably bit anyways."

Alfonse shook his head and took my arm gently, leading me through the house. "Don't pay attention to her," he muttered, stopping at a closed doorway, "she's been through a lot." He knocked on the door softly and then opened it, peering into the room. "Abuela?"

"Alfonse," answered a soft, relieved voice. "I was so worried." Alfonse opened the door all the way and revealed a small bedroom. In the corner sat a little woman, her face lined with age. She perked up at the sight of me. "Who is this?"

Instead of letting Alfonse stumble over his words I stepped around him, reaching out my hand in greeting. "I'm Juliet." She gripped my hand, and I felt how frail she was through the simple gesture. She let out a small gasp as she took in my appearance. "Oh, you poor thing! Here, we must get you cleaned up." She went to rise from her chair, but Alfonse stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't push yourself. I will help our guest." He went into the adjoining bathroom and began to grab items off shelves. His grandmother urged me to sit on the bed, even though I was covered in filth, and I humored her, sinking down into the first mattress I had felt in weeks. Alfonse returned with a bowl of water, a washcloth, and some peroxide. He let me wash my face and neck, and then began applying peroxide when I moved to the scratches on my calves. Thankfully, none of my wounds were terribly serious. Only my ear kept oozing blood, and even then it was only a small amount.

Alfonse's grandmother watched with a sad expression. "I wish there was more we could do for you, dear. This mess has left us with little to offer. We are just managing to get by." I nodded sympathetically. When we were done fixing me up, Alfonse returned to the bathroom, dumping the water and shelving the peroxide. I raised my head and returned the old woman's gaze. "What should I call you?"

She gave a small chuckle and smiled at me. "I am called Esther by those who don't know me well. I guess that's just about everyone these days, don't you think?" I gave her a small laugh back.

My laugh turned into a sob as I registered what I had just been through in the past hour. I tried to hide my crying as I lowered my head onto my knees and put my hands on my head. It was obvious, though, and I could tell Esther was alarmed.

"Alfonse!" she cried, trying to rise from her chair. "Alfonse, I think the girl is in shock!" Alfonse rushed into the room. He gently pushed his grandmother back into her chair, and then went to my huddled form. He sat beside me and rubbed my back. The soft motion slowly brought my sobbing to a halt, and my hands lowered from my head as I lifted it, sniffling.

"I lost my group." I whispered, my voice trembling as my eyes threatened to being leaking again. "I don't know how I will ever find them…" I trailed off, the horror too great as I imagined never seeing my daughter's smiling face again.

Alfonse seemed to pause and think for a second, but the moment was gone so quickly that I couldn't be sure. He was in action before I could blink.

"You're group, you where separated not long ago, yes?" I nodded, my face displaying my confusion and dismay. Alfonse grabbed my shoulders, shaking me softly. "Think hard: When you entered the city, did you have your car radio switched on?" I was still in the dark, but I thought back, trying to remember.

It dawned on me. "We had the radio on. We were trying to listen for any broadcasts about refugee camps." Alfonse was already on his feet and out the door. I gave Esther a quizzical look, but she just smiled and tilted her head toward the door, prompting me to follow.

I rose and left the room, guessing at where Alfonse had gone. The house was so small that he was simple to find. He sat in the living room, surrounded by electronic equipment. He was fiddling with some wires and a microphone, setting what he needed in front of him. "I was a radio DJ before all this shit happened," he explained, adjusting the mic. "With luck, we can broadcast on all the open channels and your group will hear us." I couldn't help but be a little hopeful at the idea, but I knew in my heart it was probably just a pipe dream that one of the boys would hear the broadcast. Still, I sat down beside Alfonse, and when he recited the address of the house, I repeated it, and my own personal message into the microphone, praying I would be heard.

* * *

><p><em>Click.<em> Charlie turned the dial on the radio, feeling the knob fall into place with his sensitive little hand. Outside of the truck, the men stood, their faces contorted in frustration and sadness, their hands waving and clenching as they opened their mouths wide, speaking in what Charlie thought would be loud tones.

Juliet was gone. His makeshift mother was not with them anymore. He didn't know exactly what the men were saying, but he knew it was about her, and that made him nervous and scared. He didn't know if she was still alive. The last time he saw her was when she gave him and Alice kisses before she stepped out of the truck, never to return. When Ferris had jumped back in and peeled out of the base without her, he had begun to cry, even as Alice had voiced her protests.

But now he knew she must not be dead. Or, at least, the men didn't know if she was dead. They wouldn't make such a fuss if they knew.

_Click._ He turned the dial again, placing his head on the dashboard and closed his eyes so he could block out the world.

_Click_.

A small hand grabbed his shoulder and he jumped, turning to see Alice hovering over him, her face excited. Her lips where moving too fast for him to read, but her hands told him to look at the radio. Apparently, that was not all she wanted from him, and she shook him harder, her lips moving at lightning speed. Taking a wild guess, he turned the dial back one.

_Click._ Alice jumped from the truck and ran to the men, grabbing Ferris and tugging at him frantically, pointing back to where Charlie sat in all of his confusion. Recognition dawned on Ferris' face, and he ran to the car, leaning in to pay rapt attention to the radio. A grin broke across his face, and with an exclamation, he picked Charlie up and brought him into a fierce bear hug. The other men stood outside the truck, smiles and relief coving their faces. Ferris set Charlie back down into the passenger seat and everyone piled into their respective vehicles, the caravan moving in a decisive direction.

Charlie turned and leaned over his chair, grabbing Alice's attention as she sat happily petted Dixie who was sitting beside her.

"_What is going on?" _he signed. Her eyes widened, and then she huddled up next to him, eager to share her news. When she was done, he turned back and settled into his chair. He stared at the radio in awe. Ferris caught his eye and winked at him, making Charlie feel pleased with his unknowing discovery. He looked out the window, unable to stop thinking about what Alice had revealed to him.

"_You found her, Charlie. You found mommy."_

* * *

><p>When they pulled up to the front of the house, I hardly believed my eyes. They had found me. I rushed outside and was swiftly engulfed in Ferris' strong embrace, my tears returning in my relief. Alfonse ushered our group into the house, but not before gapping at our outlandish set of vehicles. We ended up seated in the living room around the radio equipment, basking in the happiness that was finding each other again.<p>

Alice didn't leave my arms for a long time. "I thought I'd never see you again." Her voice was feeble, tired. She'd had a long day. I clutched her protectively and buried my face in her soft, corn silk hair. "Don't worry," I murmured, "I'm here now." Charlie had sat beside me, grinning bigger than I'd ever seen, and that made me happy in return. Dixie sat beside Gilligan, watching me closely as though she could keep an eye on my whereabouts and ensure I didn't get separated from them again.

Seth broke our spell of contentment. "We have to get moving." He stared out into the street through the slats covering a window. "We're not safe here."

I was about to protest when Ferris cut in. "I agree." He looked at me and shook his head. "This place is too overrun." I pressed my lips into a line, knowing they were right.

"You're leaving?" We all looked up to see Alfonse in the doorway, tense and nervous under our scrutiny. "You just got here." Seth shrugged and returned to gazing out the window. "That's just the way things are," he said, his voice nonchalant. "If things are bad, you move. It's as simple as that."

Bernard's face revealed he was troubled, but it lit up quickly as an idea appeared in his head. "Why don't you come with us?" The rest of the group gave him looks of disbelief and uncertainty. "We have plenty of room."

Seth gave him a glare and he fell silent, but the idea was planted, and could not be uprooted.

"Yes." They looked at me as I spoke up, listening. "Why don't you come with us? There is nothing for you here." Alfonse gave a glance to the bedroom door were his grandmother was and then walked farther into the room, lowering his voice as he spoke. "I would," he said quietly, his voice seeming loud in the silent space, "but, my Abuela… she is very sick. I cannot leave her, and moving her is also not an option." His shoulders sagged in a sort of defeat, his face drawn. "Her leukemia... after the outbreak we could not get any treatments. She is in much pain. She doesn't have long." The silence in the room was overwhelming, and my heart felt heavy at the prospect of leaving this small family unit to be overcome by the big world outside.

Then, a rarely heard voice rose to fill the silence.

"We will stay until her passing." We looked to Gilligan in shock, his solemn, hazy expression unchanged.

"We can't do that," Seth stated, his face flushed. "We'd be using up valuable resources staying here. Time is of the essence. We can't just wait for-" He was silenced when he looked at Gilligan's unwavering countenance, his eyes hard and unyielding. I saw Seth's resolve crumple, and he leaned against the boards on the window, as if for support, as he thought. When he lifted his head, you could tell his decision was unwavering.

"We wait three days. No more, no less." And it was settled.

Sadly, it didn't take us that long to be on the move again. Esther passed away in the evening of the next day. It was almost as if she had been waiting for someone to save her family before she let herself be at peace. Alfonse and Isabel were in tears as we left the small, lonely house, unable to bury or cremate her because of the threat of the dead.

I cried as well, noticing the irony of someone dying from causes that weren't of the 'zombie bite' nature.

If only we could all go that way.

* * *

><p>"No!" I screamed, trying to wrestle my way out of the men's grips. "Leave him alone!" I watched in horror as the leader of the gang slashed each of Bernard's wrists six times, horizontally. "Let us go!"<p>

The leader chuckled as Bernard fell to the ground, bleeding profusely. Next to him, also on the ground, was a young girl of eleven or twelve, who had been given the same treatment, only she had three slashes instead of six. "Why are you doing this?" I was scared out of my mind, trying to free myself so I could go to my wounded friend and the girl.

"Why?" The leader pretended to think the question over before his face broke out in a smile. He spread his arms wide and gestured around the room. "Because it's entertaining! Isn't that right, boys?"

The dozens of men in the dank, filthy room yelled and hooted wildly in agreement. The leader turned his wicked smile on me and I froze, unnerved at his pale, dead eyes that stripped me down to nothing. "And after we watch the freaks devour those two," he said softly, gripping my chin and forcing it up, "we'll have you to keep us entertained until the next meal comes along." The men in the room hooted again, adding cat calls to their senseless noise.

"Although," he said as he trailed his thumb down the scar on my neck, "it looks like someone got to you before us. You're not too damaged, I hope? I know some fuckers take pleasure in cutting up girls' cunts, and I don't fuck shit like that." He brought his hand back to my chin, forcing a finger into my mouth. "Of course, there's more than one way to get the job done, if all else fails."

Somehow, his nasty grin and greasy finger twirling my tongue angered me more than they scared me. I knew I had to figure out a way to go with Bernard and the girl; we stood a better chance with the monsters out there than the monsters in here.

"You like that, don't you, bitch?" the man to my right whispered into my ear. I could feel his mouth curl, he was so close. I snapped, deciding that it was time for drastic measures, and braced myself for what I was about to do.

A blood-curling scream rang though the room as I bit down on the finger in my mouth.

The leader tugged and tugged, franticly trying to remove his appendage from my mouth, but I just bit down harder, determined. It was only when one of the men who had been holding me punched me in the face that I let go, falling to the floor from the crushing blow.

The leader cradled his hand and I noticed with satisfaction that I had bitten down to the bone. "You little whore!" He was livid, and became even more so when I spat his own blood on his worn boots. I gave him a weak but triumphant smile. He kicked out at me, catching me in the side and forcing me to curl up. He reached down and grabbed me up by my hair, making me scream. With his free hand he brought out his knife, letting the light play off the wicked blade.

"You want to join your friend so badly? Fine. We can play this game. And, girly? I always win." His words were growled out at me, and I saw a manic gleam in his eyes as his men brought my wrists up into the light.

"Let's see how much you like getting eaten." His sick innuendo was not lost on me.

If they weren't outside before, the dead probably massed in the streets at the sound of my screams.

* * *

><p>We had decided that taking the quickest route to the coast was essential, and that the longer we stayed on the road, without shelter and a stronghold, the more quickly we would be picked off, one by one. So, we agreed on travelling through Louisiana to get to our ideal destination.<p>

Strange how easily we became consumed in the perils of this new world. So consumed, we forgot the dangers of the old one.

We travelled along the most clear roads that we came across, and, suddenly, we found ourselves in the Lower Ninth; the dirtiest, most violent area in the Old New Orleans. It was getting dark, and we were scouting for a safe place to hunker down and wait for dawn. Ferris thought the swamp was probably the only safe place, with plenty of deep mud for the dead to get caught in, and alligators that would most likely tear apart the goons.

After he heard the word 'alligator', Seth vetoed the idea. The rest of the group followed suit. Seth made Ferris and Gilligan stay behind to guard our vehicles and the kids, taking Alfonse with him on his search. Bernard and I teamed up, hotwiring a smaller car to scout with so we wouldn't have to maneuver our larger vehicles through the streets, or walk around, vulnerable. After our incident in Texas, we had taken to carrying walkies, and everyone felt fairly secure going our separate ways.

That is, until a group of burly gangsters smashed in our car windows and took us hostage.

Well, not hostage, exactly, because hostages have a chance of living, right?

We didn't really expect to get that chance after they slit our wrists and threw us out into the freak infested streets.

* * *

><p>I panted as I ran, feeling my racing pulse in my face where the thug had hit me. I cursed as the small girl they had thrown out with us stumbled and fell to the ground. I turned on a dime and grabbed her up, her body light and frail for someone of her age. It made me wonder how long she had been forced to stay with those men, and what they did to her to make her so broken that they threw her out with the rest of the so called 'trash'.<p>

All of us were bleeding profusely because of our fast-pumping blood. Bernard, I could see, was waning. He compensated with his extremely long legs, but I knew he could drop at any time. Even so, he had his wits about him enough to pick up a lone pipe on the street as he ran, and would clear the path in front of us when the goons sprang into our way.

I was sure we were going to die. The pack at our backs was close; I could hear their moans in my ears; I felt fingers snag in my hair.

A shot rang out, and there was a thud behind me. Suddenly, the night was filled with rapid gunfire, and I listened as blood splattered on the pavement.

"Dis way!" A voice shouted out of the dark. A hand reached out and grabbed Bernard, and I tried to muffle my scream. The night was lit up by several sets of headlights, and a dark face was illuminated. The hand that didn't have Bernard held an MK-47. "Come." His voice was firm and resolute, and if his words didn't move me, his gun did. I let myself be herded into the bed of one of the trucks; the man followed with Bernard and sat on the right side. He tapped the driver's window and we took off into the dark. I gripped the girl in my arms, willing myself to stop shaking and think, think, _think. _If these men were anything like the others, we were dead for good this time.

I felt a nudge on my shoulder and looked up to see the man looming over me, a roll of bandages in hand. "Here," he muttered. I took the roll hesitantly and began to clean the girl up, wiping the excess blood on her wrists on the clean inside of my shirt. After I bandaged her wrists, I tried to rise to tend to Bernard, but she tightened her arms around me, halting any movement.

"Don't leave me." Her whimper made me want to cry. I gestured to Bernard instead, and he sat beside me tiredly, letting me tend his deep, seeping slits. Only when I had rechecked my work and thought I had done a well enough job did I begin to take care of myself. The girl released me long enough to let me wrap up my wounds, then was back in my embrace immediately after, tucking her head under my chin.

I stared blankly at the darkness in front of me, listening as gravel churned under the truck and branches whipped at the sides as they sped past.

"What's your name?" I whispered quietly into her tousled hair, my eyes gluing themselves to the bed of the truck.

She paused, as if to think, and then relaxed in my arms, letting her head sink to my chest.

"Noelle." She whispered into the midnight air.

* * *

><p>"Thank God!" I was wrapped into Ferris' bear-like hug, finally safe. "We thought we lost you. Again." All around people stood, watching with either solemn expressions or kind smiles, joining in the reunion of our small group. There must have been forty-or-so people, the biggest congregation of the living we had seen yet.<p>

"Alright, move it! We have to get these guys checked out before they go running around our camp." A tall, pale woman with very curly hair stepped up beside our two-person huddle, and Ferris tugged me closer to him. "They're not infected, if that's what you're suggestin'." She leveled him with her steely gaze.

"Better safe than sorry." I pulled myself out of Ferris' grip and patted him on his arm, trying to pacify him. "Don't worry," I whispered, "we'll be back soon." The woman ushered us into what seemed to be a makeshift medical tent. She began to check us over, starting with Noelle. "Shit," she muttered, when she unwrapped the bandages and saw the slashes, "not again." She finished quickly, and when she was done, she stormed out of the tent, the three of us left to make our own ways out.

"Paul, what the fuck?" She made a bee-line to the man who had put us in the truck and when she reached him, she stood over his relaxed, reclining form, fuming. When he didn't answer, she swung her arm around, pointing to us as we left the tent and made our way to our group. "I thought you handled this!"

Paul shrugged, unperturbed. "You cannot win every battle. Der is times you must cut your losses and take what you can get. We cannot stop de rats because dey spring up like weeds. Rats always show up when t'ings are rotten." He tilted his head to the side, staring past her. "We can only do so much and keep our own safe as well. It is a hard decision, but it is de decision we have made." He raised his eyes back to her, staring her down. "You should be thankful, Evelyn, dat we have done what we have, and leave it at dat."

Chastened, Evelyn slumped down beside him and put her face in her hands. "They're sick bastards. They deserve to be eaten." Paul simply nodded in agreement, his eyes on our group as we conversed.

"We were lucky;" Alfonse said, explaining what had happened, "these people found us while we were searching for a place, and brought us here immediately. We tried to contact you, but you never replied over your walkie, so we started to panic. They wouldn't let us search for you, so they went out to look for you themselves."

"Almost blew a fuse, not bein' able to look for ya." Ferris gave us a warm smile, and patted Bernard on the back, since he was closest to him. "Now, who might this be?" Ferris asked, kneeling to get a better look at Noelle. "I don't remember sending you out with these two oafs." She shied away from him, hiding behind my legs with a terrified expression on her face. I shook my head at Ferris and he rose, nodding in understanding.

Seth clapped once, gaining our attention. "Well this is all fine and dandy, but remember, we can't stay here for long." He looked around, then widened his stance, asserting his authority. "I say we move out in the morning. The faster we're out of here the faster we'll get to the coast, and the safer we'll be." Bernard raised his voice in protest.

"But there are so many people here," he said, looking around and drawing our attention to the work going on in the camp. "Isn't there safety in numbers?"

Seth shook his head. "These people are just postponing the inevitable. They aren't trying to solve the problem, and eventually they'll be overcome." He watched as a family entered one of the various tents, the father smiling as he lifted his little boy into his arms before disappearing behind the flap. "Such a pity."

"I agree with Seth." Gilligan spoke and we stopped to listen. "We made a plan, and now we must bring it to fruition."

No one rose to oppose this statement. Almost as one, we went to settle down in our separate spaces in the back of the semi, where there was plenty room and we were close to our weapons. As I hopped up I noticed Alice and Charlie already asleep, and I breathed in relief that they hadn't had to worry terribly long if they had fallen into slumber. Noelle was still on the ground behind me, shuffling nervously as the men jumped up into the back. I picked her up under her thin arms and settled her down, snuggled between Alice and myself. Noelle seemed almost in awe as she took in the peaceful faces of the two children.

We didn't speak, but I hoped she understood she was in a safe place as Gilligan grabbed the sliding door and pulled it down, the clang resounding as the back of the truck fell into total darkness.

* * *

><p>"I'm going with you." Evelyn stated the next morning as we were packing up, getting ready to head out. "You're right about this place. We are just trying to postpone the inevitable, and it will get us all killed." She crossed her arms and looked at Seth resolutely, singling him out as our leader, and therefore the person she had to convince. "I want to end this, and you all are my best bet."<p>

Instead of answering her, Seth looked to Ferris and Gilligan for their opinions. Gilligan shrugged and hopped into the semi; it was his turn to drive. Ferris scrutinized Evelyn before saying; "She doesn't look like she would try to get us all killed, if that's what you're wondering. We won't know unless we try. She might even be an asset." He followed Gilligan's lead by shrugging and moving towards his truck, opening the back door for Dixie to hop in, then sitting in the driver's seat and revving the engine. "Whatever your decision is, make it fast! We're burning daylight!" he shouted over the truck's noise.

Evelyn grabbed Seth's attention. "You're heading for the coast, right? I was thinking that we could make a detour to Georgia. The Center for Disease Control may still be up and running. There's a doctor that I know there, Dr. Jenner, who might be able to help us."

Seth gave Evelyn a hard look. "Be ready to leave in five minutes. Get in the Hummer, passenger side." He left her to pack, walking up to where Paul and I stood, conversing.

"Thank you for everything you have done for us. I know it was a big risk to search for us, and I speak for the whole group when I say we're grateful." Paul nodded, his face a mask.

"Those who survive should look out for each other, no? The more living der are in de world, de better humanity's chances are." He reached out and shook my hand. I only noticed Seth standing by us when Paul offered the same friendly gesture to him, their hands clasping firmly in goodbye. "I would suggest moving closer to the coast, or even finding a ship to live on, but that would be overstepping my bounds." Paul shrugged, but seemed to consider Seth's advice.

"I hope to see you again, Seth and Juliet, in a new and brighter future."

As we walked to our vehicles, Seth spoke. "I want you to take the kids and drive the Hummer. We'll put Alfonse and Isabel in Ferris' truck. I want to talk to him for a bit." I tilted my head questioningly, but didn't ask.

When I got in the Hummer, I was startled to see Evelyn there, but took it in stride, starting up the SUV.

"You coming with?" She looked at me for a second, then looked back at the dirt road we were situated on, staring.

"Yeah."

I accepted her answer and called to the kids, who were grouped around each other, Alice seemingly trying to translate for Charlie so Noelle could understand. "Come on you guys! We're in the Hummer today!" I was just noticing the genius in Seth's arrangement as the kids piled in. I could keep an eye on them and get to know Evelyn with some woman talk, and there were no men around for Noelle to shy away from. I was almost surprised at how quickly she had already taken to Charlie, but then he was younger and fairly unthreatening with his wide smile and tousled, sandy hair. Noelle probably thought they were siblings with how much Charlie and Alice looked alike, and with Alice to break the ice, I knew they'd have no problems getting along.

When everyone was buckled in, Seth gave a signal to Bernard, who was in the passenger side of the semi, who in turn gave it to me, and we were moving, heading down the road that Paul had informed us was the safest route to Mississippi.

"Sooooo…"I trailed off trying to think of a conversation starter. "What did you do before the outbreak?" I didn't think she would answer me because she was silent for a few minutes after my question, but when she spoke up, what she said surprised me.

"I was a scientist. I studied diseases." She looked out her window at the scenery passing by, not noticing my shock. "And I thought cancer or AIDS was bad. This is a whole different kettle of fish. Something we never could have prepared for." Her voice quieted so I could barely hear her. "Who knew it would get this bad…"

"Wait, how long has this been around? I thought it was a recent disease."

She shook her head. "The first outbreaks began in Africa and China about a year ago. American politicians didn't find it necessary to inform the public. They just sent doctors and scientists to study it. They disguised the outbreaks by saying there were mass genocides going on in other countries. It's sad how we're okay with it when a country kills its own people, don't you think? And there _were_ mass genocides: people were trying to keep it from spreading." She placed her elbow on the car door, holding her chin in her hand. "The problem with sending our people there is that, eventually, they have to come back. Apparently, everyone was checked over thoroughly and no one was bit or scratched, but that didn't mean anything. It still made its way here…diseases are slippery like that. That's why we have to go to the CDC. We have to find a cure, and start rebuilding. Even if it means killing every single one of those freaks."

I was silent, my mind awhirl with information. I couldn't believe that we hadn't stopped this plague in its tracks. How could we not have seen this coming?

Still, I knew in my heart that if there was anybody who was going to right this wrong, it was us, and Evelyn was just another step toward that goal.

* * *

><p>"<em>I want to wear a crown of glory<em>

_When I get home to that good land_

_I want to shout salvation's story_

_In concert with the blood-washed band"_

We met Neal and the girls, strangely enough, in one of those spare moments of peace. After crossing over into Mississippi and traveling halfway through the state, we stumbled upon them in a setting a lot like this one.

Even as we approached, cautiously, and the girls stood and reached for their weapons, Neal never stopped strumming his guitar, his warm voice making our meeting a surreal picture from another world.

"_I'm going there to meet my Savior_

_To sing his praise forever more_

_I'm just a going over Jordan_

_I'm just a going over home"_

Silence fell over the camp as Neal's song ended, a calm settling over the group as the last notes faded into the night.

"You never cease to amaze, Neal." Delia said, her teeth blindingly white in contrast to her dark face as she smiled.

Michelle sighed, leaning back on her hands in contentment. "I love that song."

Alice gave Neal her biggest smile. "Another!"

Neal laughed, and I shushed her, trying not to grin. "It's bedtime, sweety. We all need our rest." She pouted, but got up to get ready for bed, Noelle and Charlie following close behind.

"We're making good time," Seth said, staring into the fire, "We're only about twenty or-so miles from the state line." I think everyone was amazed at how quickly we had gotten through Mississippi and into Alabama. Even more surprising was our speedy crossing of the Yellowhammer State. Now, we were on the cusp of reaching our newest destination: Georgia, and the CDC.

Alice rushed from our grouping of tents, wearing her nightgown and holding her hair brush.

"One more song, mommy? Please?" It was impossible to say no to her innocent request. I took her brush from her and sat her on my lap. She looked expectantly at Neal. The other children returned from their nighttime rituals; Noelle taking a seat beside me, and Charlie climbing into Ferris' lap, snuggling down to fall asleep in his arms. Neal considered for a moment. "Now what song would be a gud'un to send us off to bed?" As he thought, he struck random chords on his guitar, perhaps for inspiration.

A light seemed to turn on in his head.

As the first notes lilted across our clearing, Ferris moved to sit beside me, Charlie in hand. I brushed Alice's hair methodically, letting the song and my soothing motions lull her to sleep.

"_I will walk beside you_

_Good and bad times_

_Busk the streets for spare change_

_I'll hold the sign_

_Through the storm may blow down_

_All that we own_

_I will not be homeless_

_You are home"_

"Dixie's due any week now." Ferris muttered staring into the fire and running his fingers through Charlie's hair. "You ready for that?"

I closed my eyes, hoping an answer was written on the inside of my eyelids. When I found none, my shoulders slumped, and I opened my eyes again, feeling oh-so tired.

"No, I don't think I am…or that we are. It scares me." He tucked me under his free arm and pulled me close.

"Don't be." I leaned into him watching in a daze as Noelle helped a half-asleep Alice off my lap, as though she could tell I needed to rest. "We're almost there. Just have faith."

"_Through it all _

_I'll go through anything with you_

_They can take it all away_

_But I'll be alright with you_

_As long as you are in my life_

_I'll be okay_

_I'll be alright_

_With you"_

I fell asleep sitting there, comforted that the roof we were on was well protected, that the men were on watch, ready to do battle at any moment, and that we were all safe and well-fed, with lullabies to send us into slumber. Tomorrow would come when it came.

And then, we would enter Georgia.

* * *

><p>AN: Welp, there you have it! All twenty-five pages of it. Whew! Anyway, still no group in this chapter, but it's coming. They'll be there soon, I promise, so stick with me. If you have the time and inclination, please review!<p>

Toodles!


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